


Live For Me

by Kittenmaya



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Eventual Fluff, M/M, Near Death, close to death, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenmaya/pseuds/Kittenmaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is wounded. Badly. Derek finds him and, panicking, asks Stiles to live, for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live For Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [anywhere, i would've followed you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086842) by [colferstilinski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colferstilinski/pseuds/colferstilinski). 



> Only a short one-shot. I just read and incredible fic with the phrase "'I love you' means a lot less than 'I’d die for you' but still never greater than 'I’ll live for you.'" in it and I got to thinking about the idea of living for someone being so much harder than dying for them.

‘Please Stiles, please. I need you to live for me. Please.’ The voice was distant, familiar but not enough soft enough to be Scott or feminine enough to be Allison or Lydia. The words were delivered as a command but, even across the distance, Stiles could hear the underlying panic. ‘Stiles!’ Now anger had slipped into the tone and finally he could place it. Derek. Derek must be the one who found him, chest ripped open by the passing Omega who had turned nasty. Derek must be the one shouting his name so far away. Though, Stiles’ mind sluggishly tried to turn the facts over, if Derek was far away why could he vaguely feel strong arms tugging at him, pushing and pulling his limp body until he was being carried, bridal style, towards his Jeep. Everything flickered out for a moment. Sharp pain across his face brought it back.

‘Ow!’ He could hear the gurgling quality to his own voice and panic brought everything suddenly to focus. Including the pain. A scream worked its way out, though it was high and breathy because his lungs refused to fill the way he wanted them to. Derek was carrying him carefully, avoiding touching any of the wounds but the pain of moment across his chest was too much. A second scream, more desperate than the last but weaker again. Then he was reduced to whimpering, some back seat part of his mind embarrassed to whimper in front of Derek but he couldn’t control it. Derek moved him again, trying everything not to move the wounds, so that he could wrap a hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and draw the pain into himself. It worked and the pain was so sudden and intense Derek stumbled slightly, shocked by it even with his werewolf strength. 

‘Stiles.’ Derek voice came to him through gritted teeth. ‘You’ve gotta live for me. Ok? Can you do that?’ His voice wavered in Stiles’ mind, dropping in and out. 

‘Ok, coach. I’m workin’ on it.’ He wasn’t sure if the words even left him or if they had just formed in his head. Things were blurring that, he was fairly sure, shouldn’t be. Like the collar of Derek’s stupid, pretentious leather coat, Derek’s stupid pretentious stubble, Derek’s stupid pretentious werewolf teeth. The effort of trying to focus was too much and he let his eyes slide closed.

‘Stiles, Goddamn it! I need you.’ Stiles was sure there was another part of that sentence but it was too hard to try and listen and the blackness seemed much more peaceful. 

\-------

A clammy hand on his was the first thing Stiles noticed. His eyes refused to obey his order to open so he let his ears do the work. Beeping. Ah, hospital then. No surprise there. Last memory? The Omega. Turning. Attacking Stiles. That was it! His chest had been ripped open. It came back to him just as his brain registered the pain there. It wasn’t too bad, he guessed he was fairly high on morphine, but there was still a definite hot itch across most of his chest and upper abdomen. He tried again with the opening his eyes thing and this time he managed to squint up at the white ceiling with single strip light across it. Yeah, defiantly hospital. His eyes closed of their own accord. Well, that was better than the dark he had sunk into so eagerly. Another memory jogged and he suddenly knew why he was waking up at all. His eyes shot open and looked down to the hand. It was larger, darker and , honestly, more hairy than Scott’s or his dad’s. Derek. Derek was the one fast asleep in the chair beside his bed, hand possessively clamped over Stiles’. Stiles couldn’t help the automatic reaction to jerk his hand away but the pain that suddenly flared across his chest was unbelievably not worth it. He hissed loudly and Derek’s eyes shot open. He looked instinctively to the doorway and then, sure no-one was attacking, to Stiles. 

‘Hey.’

‘Hey yourself.’ Stiles managed before his throat dried up completely. Derek stood quickly and poured a glass of water from a jug beside the bed. Stiles took it gratefully and slowly sipped, trying to ignore the pain it caused. He tried to put the glass down but the wounds tugged and Derek took it off of him, holding it with both hands and fiddling with it. Was he – was he nervous? Around Stiles? What strange, alien world had he woken into? ‘How long was I out?’

‘A week and a half.’ The words were clipped, carefully devoid of emotion. Stiles looked up to Derek’s face and took in the tension around his eyes and mouth.

‘Well, not my worst.’ He tried to pass it off as a joke but Derek slammed the glass down on the table.

‘That was too fucking close, Stilinski.’

‘Hey! First names in hospitals you dick. Where’s my dad?’ Derek had the grace to look embarrassed.

‘He’s just gone to get Scott from school. He’s been picking him up to come see you every day.’

‘And they left you on Stiles duty?’ Derek shrugged uncomfortably.

‘I haven’t left.’ Silence followed this confession. Stiles knew he should say something. He knew it was Derek’s plea that had kept him with them, but the words clogged in his throat.

‘Could I get some more water? Before you smash the glass.’ Derek smirked slightly and Stiles decided the joke was worth the tugging at his wounds when he talked. He took a longer gulp this time, buying himself a few moments. He knew he needed to thank Derek, to tell him that he was grateful that he had saved his life but Stiles had no intention of telling him that it was Derek’s ‘Live for me’ that had pulled him back from the metaphorical white-light. ‘Uh- look, thank you. For finding me, you know. And getting me here in time.’ Derek let out a stressed whine.

‘Stiles- I couldn’t.’ He gathered himself, fists clenching. ‘I can’t lose you. You don’t have to thank me for that.’ Stiles was- well, stunned to say the least. As long as he could remember he had known that loving Derek Hale was stupid, idiotic, unrequited and likely to be the death of him. He’d never imagined it might be what he lived for. And he’d certainly never imagined that Derek would stand beside his hospital bed confessing he couldn’t live without Stiles. Obviously, Stiles knew he was the best at research and God-knows he had saved the stupid pack more than once but ‘I can’t lose you’ seemed to be a bit over the top – Derek could read a book and Scott could always do the internet stuff. Stiles couldn’t think properly, the morphine and the situation were combining to prevent his normally brilliant brain from doing its job. And that would be his defence if anyone ever questioned what came out of his mouth next.

‘It was you, Derek. You said I had to live for you so I did.’ He expected laughter. He expected horror. He expected rejection. He did not expect the feather light brush of Derek’s fingers over his cheek, the questioning look in Derek’s eye, the soft kiss when he nodded his consent. The beeping of the heart monitor sped up. Derek pulled away, hand going from Stiles’ face down to the hand it had held when Stiles had woken up

‘Uh- wow. Um, I might be a little drug addled here. You’re going to have to clarify- uh, in general.’ Derek laughed, not the nasty, repelled laughed Stiles had expected but a warm, low rumble in his chest. It made Stiles’ stomach do funny, flippy things. 

‘Stiles, I might not be the best at emotion but I believe love is the explanation you’re looking for.’ Stiles let this sink in. Well, specifically, Stiles let the word love float around in his brain for a while. Apparently too long as Derek started to look worried. ‘Stiles – sorry, I thought –‘

‘No- no, no, no!. You thought right. You definitely, without a doubt, 100 and 10% thought right. Love, love is the thing that is the thing.’ Relief flooded Derek’s face and he smiled. Truly properly smiled, eyes warming and face soft. If Stiles hadn’t already been in love with Derek that smile would have sold it to him. ‘Love is good, love is, wow. Ok. Um, I’m going to need more morphine.’ He winced, the conversation was taking a lot out of him and the drugs seemed to be wearing off. ‘And I’m going to need to repeat this conversation with you when I’m less high. But love is good, great even.’ Derek smiled again and Stiles decided that that was his new favourite look on Derek. 

‘I’ll get a nurse and I’ll see if I can remember this word perfect. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ Derek lead over and kissed him softly again. This time the monitor nearly doubled. Derek laughed.

‘I like that. I like knowing I have that effect.’

‘As if you haven’t heard it before! Stupid werewolf senses!’ Stile huffed.

‘Yeah. But it’s nice being 100% sure.'

‘100 and 10%’ Stiles managed but the pain and the effort were wearing on him and sleep seemed the only reasonable option. He let his eyes stay shut this time. He heard Derek open the door and then stop.

‘I live for you, Stiles. Just so you know.’ Stiles slid into unconsciousness, those words sinking deep into him and burrowing themselves into his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah this got a little soppier than I had planned so you'll have to forgive me for that.


End file.
